Believe it or not, there are other things I want to write about here than my own wonderful self, but I have had. A. Day. And not a good one.
Well, it started out okay, even though Saturday is my long day where I work a 12-hour shift from the crack of dawn (before, actually, as the sun now rises after 6 AM) to dusk, or 6 PM, whichever comes first. But as it’s just me sitting in the office signing trucks in and out and doing data entry, and in the downtimes surfing the internet and drinking coffee, I don’t mind all that much. Besides, it doesn’t matter what time of day I have to wake up, I hate waking up. So I might as well be awake early as late, it makes no difference, I’ve always been this way.
Anyway, the work day went find. Oh, we’ve had some Irene weather — even though I’m up behind the Blue Ridge we’re still getting some outlying rain and wind effect. But I was fine.
Anyway, this morning I had noticed my car making a little squealing noise for a while after it started up, a noise that went away after a while. I thought there was dirt on a belt or maybe some oil — my car is old and beat up, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it had a bit of a leak somewhere or other. I got to work with no incident. But, when I went to leave… the squeal started up again, and then abruptly stopped. I wasn’t sure but I think I heard a noise of some sort, like a soft “clunk.” But it wasn’t until I was halfway across the bridge to the highway entrance that I saw that the battery light had come on.
Anyway, to make a long story short, my battery light came on, then my engine light, and then when I was halfway home in the middle of nowhere, I saw that the temperature gauge had shot all the way up past the red mark. What.
Did I mention I work in Harrisonburg, which is 25 miles from Staunton? And there isn’t all that much between here and there, just some small towns and a rest stop. Also, it was raining and blowing like a serious hurricane rain band had come through, mountains or no mountains. So I kept going. I made it as far as Verona before I realized that white smoke or steam was pouring from under the hood. Fortunately Verona is the next small town up from Staunton just a few miles away, so I pulled into a combination Wendy’s/Shell station and my friend came and got me. The car is at the Wendy’s/Shell station. And I am home drinking wine.
I mean what. First an earthquake, then a hurricane, then my car goes *pop*. Okay, the first two things aren’t really anything to do with me but I also think I’m coming down with a virus — I have had an annoying post-nasal drip and cough for weeks now, I thought it was hay fever, but this morning I woke up feeling kind of sore-throaty — and it’s also that time that all ladies will know what I mean when I say “it’s that time.” Gah. I need more wine. I think there is some plum wine in the fridge…